IMAGINE, if you wish, Alain Resnais’ “Last Year in Marienbad” filtered through the senses of Eric Rohmer, and you have a feel for “In the City of Sylvia” by Spanish filmmaker José Luis Guerin.

In “Marienbad,” a gentleman meets a lady in a rambling hotel and insists that they had an affair the previous year in the Czech spa oasis Marienbad.

In “Sylvia,” a young poet (scruffy Xavier Lafitte) follows a woman (Pilar Lopez de Ayala) through the side streets of Strasbourg, convinced she is the Sylvia that he met six years earlier in a cafe in that city.

He first spied her anew during a lazy afternoon, shot in real time, in an outdoor cafe filled with an abundance of Rohmer-esque waifs.

He tracks her through the streets, at one point calling her name. There is no response. Is she aware that she has a secret admirer? We can only guess.

When “Sylvia” and her stalker finally get to speak with each other (on a tram), she insists that he must be mistaken.

She exits at the next stop, he continues on. That evening, he goes to the bar where he first met Sylvia and takes a woman back to his hotel room. She isn’t Sylvia, either.

There isn’t any more of a story here. What counts is the atmosphere conjured up by Guerin and lenser Natasha Braier on the streets of Strasbourg.

It’s people-watching taken to a sublime level. Moviegoers interested in a conventional story can go see any of the Hollywood blockbusters stinking up the multiplexes. But for viewers interested in cinematic poetry, there’s “In the City of Sylvia,” one of the year’s best.

vam@nypost.com

IN THE CITY OF SYLVIA

Streetcar named desire.

In French and Spanish, with English subtitles. Running time: 84 minutes. Not rated (nothing objectionable). At Anthology Film Archives. Second Avenue and Second Street.